Sin: A Dark & Dirty MC Romance (Satan's Sinners Book 3)

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Sin: A Dark & Dirty MC Romance (Satan's Sinners Book 3) Page 12

by Serena Akeroyd


  I knew they didn’t want to talk to me.

  A lot of people didn’t want to talk to therapists.

  They didn’t know I wasn’t a shrink for real. But I’d been one final away from graduating, and if I’d done them, I’d have been sailing into my masters.

  Even if I was nowhere near fully trained, I was all they had.

  We could get through this together. Learn together. Help them help themselves together.

  “My name’s Tiffany,” I introduced myself softly, tilting my head to the side as I murmured, “I know you’re Amara, Ghost, and Tatána.”

  Ghost had moved over to Maverick’s side, and the way she hovered close to his chair, not touching it, warmed my heart.

  She saw him as a protector, that was clear, and I got the feeling it had been a long time since Mav had felt that way, had anyone see him that way, and I knew she’d be good for him.

  The pair might even heal each other. Wouldn’t that be a miracle?

  Unfortunately for me, Ghost had the kindest expression on her face, and even she looked dubious.

  Tatána eyed me as though I was scum on her shoes, and Amara shot intermittent glares at me before she glowered down at her feet.

  That was nothing compared to how they viewed Lily either.

  But the truth was, after what she’d said? I kind of wanted Lily to stick around.

  I wanted her here too.

  Not necessarily to hear the details of what her family had put these women through, but for…

  Hell.

  Was she one of her brother’s victims too? Her father’s?

  I needed to know as much as I didn’t want to know.

  I’d always thought her dad was scary, and Luke had been that strong, silent type. Until I hit eighteen and realized he was creepy too, I hadn’t figured out that he gave me vibes that were the opposite of what my Lelo vibrator gave me.

  I plucked at my bottom lip as I pondered how to broach this particular topic, but before I could say a word, Lily cleared her throat.

  “I know you hate me, I know you think I’m one of them. One of the Lancasters.” She filled her voice with the loathing she felt for her family, and I reached over and pressed a hand to her arm, trying to imbue the touch with strength.

  I wanted her to know I had her back.

  Always.

  No matter what.

  “Well, I hated my family as much as you did.”

  Ghost scowled at her. “You can say that now—”

  “No!” Lily barked, her tone sharper than I’d ever heard it. “You can think this is cajoling—”

  “Don’t think they even know what that means,” Mav said wryly.

  Lily glared at him, but carried on, “You can think what you like about my reasons for telling you this, but I’m telling you, whatever hatred you have for him, them, I share. My father killed my mother.”

  I froze. Whatever I’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that.

  “What?” I whispered, and she shot me a tortured look.

  “He did. He pushed her down the stairs.”

  We’d all known her mom had a drinking problem…

  “I know what you’re thinking. He pushed her down the stairs and just told everyone she was drunk. I saw him do it.”

  In the background, I saw Ghost and Amara start to fidget. Even Tatána’s hate-filled scowl had lessened some. There was confusion now, like she was trying to judge whether or not Lily was lying.

  “Why did he kill her?”

  Amara.

  Lily shot her a look. “He wanted her money. She was the rich one, and he wanted to control every aspect of her fortune.”

  Amara blinked. “You are very rich?”

  “Yes. My mom was incredibly rich. Old money. My dad wasn’t. He came into it. We only just discovered how.” She tipped her chin up. “For a very long time, he raped me.” Her jaw worked, and I stared at her, taken aback by the confession, and even as everything inside me screamed for her, I saw Maverick’s surprise, Ghost’s and the other women’s too.

  “When you were a child?” Tatána asked quietly.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “And Luke used to do things in front of me too. He killed a maid once.” She gulped, but her eyes were clear of tears, her face free of expression. “I know you want to hate me. I know you want to lump me in with them, but I’m not like them. I’m not saying I’m like you. I’m not saying that you weren’t treated a thousand times worse, and I’m not even comparing my life with yours, because what they did to you was so heinous that I wish Giulia could kill Luke a thousand times over. And I wish like hell that the Sinners could get to my father, that they could set a thousand hungry dogs onto him and I could watch him be torn to pieces. I don’t even tell you this so that you can feel sorry for me.

  “I just don’t want you to think I’m like them. I’m not. Please, don’t think I am.”

  With that, with those torturous words uttered in a broken voice, she turned on her heel and started to walk out.

  For a second, I was frozen, totally bewildered by what she’d said, then I was kickstarted into gear when she softly closed the door behind her.

  Two thoughts hit me. One, I needed to go to her.

  The second?

  “She’s as much of a survivor as you are, and if you can’t see that, if you don’t think she deserves more than to be labeled a Lancaster like her horrendous brother and father, then—” I blew out a breath, speechless, but before I could get angry at their lack of reaction, I jumped into action. Pushing open the door, I rushed outside and found her leaning against the bunkhouse wall, the sobs she hadn’t allowed herself to set free were now coming in waves.

  Her cries, her misery, her heartache, tore at my walls until I didn’t have any.

  Until I vowed that we’d never have any secrets between us ever again.

  Before she could say anything, argue or back off, I moved over to her, tipped her upright so she was no longer folded over, and forced her to let me hug her.

  She was so tense, so taut, that it felt like she was brittle. Enough to shatter.

  And suddenly, it all fit.

  Why Link was so protective of her. Why they hadn’t had sex. Why, when we’d been at the funeral and she’d been out in the open, the bikers had surrounded her like she was a precious treasure.

  Not only was she that to Link, but she was as much of a victim as these women here—just as much of a survivor—and for people such as they? They needed to know they were protected.

  Shielded.

  I knew, point blank, that no one would ever touch Lily again.

  No one.

  Link would make sure of it.

  And I was so thankful for that.

  So fucking happy that the tears that poured from me were both a mixture of relief at that thought and an outpouring of misery too.

  Misery for her.

  “You should have told me,” I whispered in her ear, and she sobbed even harder, clinging to me, her face damp against my throat, her body heaving against mine.

  Everything inside me felt raw, cut open, because I wanted to heal her, but I knew I wasn’t good enough to do that. Which meant I wasn’t good enough to heal the women in the bunkhouse either…

  What fucking use was I?

  Christ.

  I squeezed her tighter, needing her to know she was loved. That she was my sister, that we were in this together, and then, something insane happened.

  People pressed around us.

  Slim bodies, with too bony arms slipping around our waists, huddling into our sides.

  Tears that belonged to neither of us dampened our clothes as the three women from the bunkhouse stepped into the light and embraced one of their own.

  Because Lily was exactly that.

  One of them.

  And suddenly, I knew what a killing rage was, because if Donavan didn’t die a miserable death? I knew my soul would never be at peace again.

  Maverick

  I’d known. Sur
e I had. Link had told the council, but him telling us and seeing it in the flesh? Seeing the outpouring of hurt and misery and vulnerability?

  Yeah, that was different.

  Seeing Lily’s suffering was night and day compared to Link sharing the minimal details to keep her privacy contained.

  When the women went out to comfort her, after the sounds of her sobbing filled the small building, I knew they’d taken a giant leap forward.

  But for me?

  I wasn’t sure what to do.

  I really wasn’t.

  I knew what hatred was. I did. I knew what it felt like, knew how it could consume. But what I felt for Donavan Lancaster outweighed that.

  I thought it even measured up to what Nyx felt for the sick fucks he slayed.

  Because I was at a loss of what to do, how to think, what to feel, I reached for my cell phone.

  I’d contacted Lodestar before, had tried to get her to come into the fold to help us out, and while she’d given us key information that was pivotal in getting Lancaster back on US soil, she’d gone AWOL shortly after.

  I knew what she was like. She had projects that took her all over the country, projects that involved her doing illegal shit, that necessitated her becoming a ghost. Even if I wanted her to respond, I knew it wasn’t always possible.

  So, when I texted, I didn’t expect a reply, even if I really fucking needed one.

  Me: Lode, I need your help. Please.

  I sure as fuck didn’t expect her to answer almost immediately.

  Lodestar: Yeah. Sure. I’m on my way to the compound. I’ll be there tomorrow. I need your help too.

  My brows rose at that. I’d never known her to need anyone’s help.

  Me: What kind of help?

  Lodestar: Somewhere to stay.

  Me: What have you done?

  I mean, I didn’t really care, but I needed to know what shitstorm she was bringing to our door so I could prepare Rex.

  Lodestar: Can’t really talk about it on unsecure channels. I’ll be bringing someone with me. Someone wanted.

  I frowned at her response, but I shrugged, because it was worth dealing with that to have access to someone of Lodestar’s skills.

  The truth was, I needed her to find Donavan Lancaster’s exact location so we could work on the channels we owned to bring that bastard back to U.S. soil.

  He needed to be here. Not so he could spend his life in jail, but so he could truly know what it felt like to hurt as he’d hurt his daughter, as he’d hurt my woman, and Tatána, Amara, and every other female he’d used and abused in his miserable life.

  Lodestar: That going to be a problem?

  Me: No. But if you were heading this way anyway, you should have given me a heads-up.

  Lodestar: Haha, yeah, because that’s what I do on the regular, right?

  My lips twitched, even though nothing about this situation was funny.

  Me: True. You know you could normally crash here without any expectations, but the truth is, I want you to find someone for me. If you’re down with that, you’re welcome here for as long as you want.

  Lodestar: Someone cool?

  Me: Someone cool without a doubt.

  That was our codeword for someone who needed to die.

  Lodestar: Even more fun. See you tomorrow.

  Me: I’ll get one of the bunkhouses made up for you.

  Lodestar: Thanks. Two beds.

  Mav: Done.

  With that, I switched to Link’s texts.

  Me: How far are you from home?

  That he saw my text straight off told me he was either at the other chapter’s clubhouse or they were on the road and had stopped off for food.

  Link: We’ll be setting off in the morning. We’re done. Giulia got a little overzealous. Almost had the fire department on our asses.

  My lips twisted in amusement.

  Me: Knew Giulia would be a thirsty wench when it came down to it.

  Link: Ha. She and Nyx sure know how to work together.

  I grinned at that understatement, but it slowly slid from my lips as I replied.

  Me: You need to know that Lily told the other women what she’s been through with her dad.

  Link: Fuck. You’re kidding me.

  Me: It’s okay. Well, that sounds crazy, because nothing about this is okay. Still, Tiffany is with her. So are the other women. They’re comforting her.

  Link: That’s a big change from yesterday. I can still hear Tatána’s screeches in my ears.

  Me: Yeah. But she broke down. I think they realized she’s one of them.

  Link: Fuck, I hate that.

  Me: I know, man. Trust me. I do.

  Link: Do you think I should grab a flight home?

  My eyes widened.

  Me: And leave your bike there?

  Link: Can replace that shit. Can’t replace her.

  I gnawed on my bottom lip, wondering what the right response was. I didn’t want to interrupt the little powwow that was going on outside, because I knew from experience how healing something like that could be.

  But I needed to know from the horse’s mouth what she wanted.

  Me: Two minutes.

  I wheeled over to the door and saw just how much the women were clinging to each other.

  It was enough to make me feel odd inside, because it was so genuine, honest, and earnest, and it made me wish that I’d had that when I was home from the sandbox.

  Sure, I’d had my brothers, but the truth was, we were men. Men didn’t do shit like this. That was why we needed a woman, a strong woman, at our side.

  They gave us this.

  They gave us the softness to counter the hard shit we came across in this life.

  I wasn’t sure how, considering I knew my wheels hadn’t made a squeak, but Ghost’s head popped up the second I was in the doorway.

  She stared at me, and I stared back, and without saying a word, she did what she’d never done before.

  She moved over to me, away from the hug that was going down a few feet from me, and plunked herself on my lap.

  It could have been weird, because it was the first time she’d ever done that, but it wasn’t. Why? Because she turned her face into my throat, curled into me, and started crying.

  Instantly, my arms went around her, and I buried my face in her hair.

  I felt my eyes prickle with tears. For her, for the others, for Lily. For my fucking self, selfish prick that I was.

  I hugged her as tightly as she hugged me, aware this was the closest we’d ever been to each other.

  The closest we might ever be.

  The thought had resolve hitting me, and I knew that if Lodestar truly was on her way and didn’t get diverted—a distinct possibility, especially since she knew I wanted a trade for her shelter now—that I’d have her doing something else.

  Creating a past for Ghost.

  Making a file for her, filling it with bullshit, anything to make it look like she deserved to be here. That she had the right to stay as my wife.

  I wasn’t sure how we’d do it, what we could use to make it happen, but there were ways and means. If anyone knew that, it was me. False certificates to make her look like she could work here and bring something to the country, maybe even a padded bank account so it seemed like she could support herself… Shit like that mattered to ICE.

  I hugged her tight, and when my cell buzzed, I wanted to ignore it, but I knew what Link was like. He’d call if he thought something was wrong, and where his woman was concerned, nothing was right at the moment.

  I muttered in her ear, “Do you think she needs Link?”

  “He’s in Ohio,” Ghost whispered back, tears in her throat, making each word soggy.

  “He said he’ll fly back.”

  “But I thought your bikes were important to you.”

  My lips twitched. “What has Giulia been telling you?”

  She sniffled. “The truth?”

  I grinned despite myself. “Not about marathons t
hough, huh? Long runs, my ass.”

  When she slapped my shoulder teasingly, I knew we’d turned a corner, especially as she scoffed, “A long run is a marathon.”

  “Not in this world,” I teased. “But yeah, when a man finds his Old Lady, one he’ll brand and be happy about branding?” I shrugged a shoulder. “Seems like he’ll be willing to leave his bike behind.”

  I guessed it sounded pathetic, how important a bike could be to us, but that was the life. It was more than just two wheels. It represented freedom.

  Peace.

  It was our way of flying down the highway. Our hogs gave us wings.

  Fuck, I missed mine. Some days, I missed it so badly that it was like a visceral ache, but I always discounted the misery it caused me to be without my ride by thinking about the truth of my situation.

  Said situation, however, had changed.

  I had Ghost now.

  Even if it wasn’t like Link and Nyx had their women.

  I had her.

  “Is marriage so different than being an Old Lady?” she inquired gently, and though I was no idiot in the brains department, I didn’t need to be a genius to understand why she was asking.

  “Yes,” I answered her softly. “Being an Old Lady means more to the club.”

  “But not the government?”

  “The club? The council? That is our government. They’re the only laws we really listen to.”

  “So why did you marry me?”

  “Because you need Uncle Sam on your side,” I said wryly. “The club doesn’t give a fuck if you’re Ukrainian or from goddamn Saturn. So long as I want you, that’s all they care about.”

  “Do you want me?” she asked quietly, so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her.

  “You know I do, Ghost,” I whispered. “Wouldn’t have wifed you if I didn’t. And wouldn’t be working hard to keep you here if that wasn’t true.”

  I let my hand drift over her shoulders, and when she didn’t flinch, when she didn’t jerk away like she’d been scalded, I rested it against the small of her back, wanting her to feel the connection.

  Figured she did, because she questioned, “What if I’m not—”

  “You don’t have to finish that sentence. We take this at your pace if you want that from me. I mean, that is, if you want that from me.”

 

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